Stillborns
by notbazluhrmann
Summary: hey look, its back up! inconsistent excerpts of an altered-canon story yet to be written including an american oc of mine to fuck things up.
1. Ghost Wars

The day was hot, not unordinary for any day that week, but for Satomi it felt like she was being suffocated from every plane surrounding her. Having actually been suffocated many times before made the exaggeration something she kept internally, unlike the orange haired boy who never truly learned what internal thoughts were.

"We've been doing stealth training all week! Can't we have a nice day indoors for once?" Nakano pestered the lot of adults guiding them outside of their fairly cool compound and into the sweltering air. An irritated growl dared to escape through Satomi's chattered teeth, but the word stealth reminded her the importance of her silence.

They were all prepared in one way or another for the plans written up by both Nagai and Tosaki, but they could never be prepared for absolutely any occurrence; some things sneak up on them no matter how much they thought of every nook and cranny of a detail, surveying location, knowing personal specs—anything they knew and anything they practiced could amount to nothing if they truly were not prepared. Hence stealth training becoming their new past time, where a course of action was created in the span of five minutes only to be executed in the next three.

Satomi remembered this timing as she quietly adjusted herself in her position within the tree despite her eye never leaving the scope of her tranquilizer rifle. This time, she was the one who everyone was to fall victim to—the stand in Sato if you must. If Nakano knew of it ahead of time, he would have done anything in his verbal and physical power to make her wear the dumb hat.

In the grassland ahead, she could see Nagai looking around where they previously left the compound from and the area in front of him all at once. "Let me guess… Eto's a part of the course?" Satomi bit her tongue as she noticed his eye roll, adjusting her scope away from his line of sight and towards Nakano as directed by her mercenary superiors. At this point, these courses seemed to solely be for his benefit, but no matter what the kid never took the clue to check his surroundings.

"Actually, she's out in the forest with Ogura doing some IBM training."

"Ha, seem's you two have switched places!" Nakano jumped in after Hirasawa's comment. Satomi didn't need to look to know Nagai scowled, likely muttering one of his many insults under his breath. What she did need to look for was his eye sight, heading straight for the forest as though he speculated the lie. Quickly, Satomi internally called on her ghost to run through the forest, able to hide herself and her IBM's mark with the wind rustling the trees. Expecting the sound of a fallen tree to satisfy Nagai's curiosity, she adjusted her scope to check him once more, though the satisfaction expected was lost as his eyes bore right through the sliver of glass acting as her own.

Hearing the soft sizzling sounds of creation behind her, her finger immediately tugged on the trigger—but everything went black before she could hear the fire.

Within seconds of revival, she blurted a curse.

"What the fuck! I thought we said no IBM's allowed!" Satomi's word cut through her teeth as she got her grounds, sitting up from her new position on the dry grass. Though dying repeatedly made each death easier, it was never the greatest of experiences. Also, it didn't help that Nagai's aim was always the midsection through the fibers of clothing, making her wardrobe increasingly limited as the days went on. Her disgruntled mumbling continued as she picked up her fallen rifle, slinging it over her shoulders as she made her way to the group left standing in the field. The silence of the occurrence tingling a bit as her hairs stood on ends, normally the result of her ghosts dissipation though today because of something a bit more pressing.

Kei Nagai laid on the grass, only visible through the gaps in surrounding bodies from where Satomi currently stood. With wide eyes she quickened her pace to become a part of the incredibly small crowd, looking down at the unconscious body before them.

"You… You did it…" Nakano's voice was that of a whisper as he tediously kicked Nagai's leg with his foot, jumping back in fear of there being a reaction. When silence followed, Satomi found herself taking yet another step closer towards the body, and for a second, she thought of him not as Nagai but as Kei—silent, sleepy, Kei.

Hirasawa pulled a gun out of his holster, hitting the silent, sleepy Kei directly in the heart. When he too revived, his voice also let out the same curse, causing the rest of them to take steps back and Satomi to roll her eyes.


	2. Playing Blame

When arriving back at the house they all knew so well, Satomi felt a harsh cold fall over them and their silence; each of the vehicle's occupants practically fell out of the open doors once the chance was given, slouched backs and blank expressions joining them as they made their way inside. Once they entered, she shivered in response as the air felt cooler, as though a ghost followed them on their way in. Satomi swallowed the thought to her stomach.

"Once again you all look like you've been to a funeral…" Ogura's statement was the second noise to reach them as they entered, the first being the low hum of the television only delivering news they already knew. Everyone's eyes cast downwards in response, silence dragging out as a choice few of them seated—Satomi included. The vocal hums of the reporter on the television almost eased her mind as she began to stare into space, focusing on the yellow tinted walls and the cracks in the decaying paint rather than the abrupt noises beside her of Tosaki and Nagai. _Why did you let Sato get away? How did things go so wrong with you in there?_ Each word nearly made her cringe as the image of Hirasawa colliding with the ceiling floated through her memory, and Sato's satisfied grin echoing behind it.

She expected Nagai to fight back and play the blame game Tosaki was so hell-bent on starting, but not a word came from his mouth, even as she heard the rustle of his clothes while Tosaki shook him in his grasp. It was hard for her to believe he felt the same way, blaming Hirasawa's death and their failure on himself, but his own expression was unable to leave her mind: sad, broken, and defeatedly determined yet at an utter loss. Satomi didn't believe Nagai felt anything for anyone up until she saw him shed a tear for Hirasawa.

"No…" Nagai's voice finally broke the embrace caused by the silence. "It is my fault; not being able to stop Sato, Hirasawa and the others being killed, it's all on me." all eyes now bore into Nagai as he finally looked up at Tosaki—his expression blank despite his voice demanding to crack at any given moment. Satomi shut her eyes as she buried her head in her knees, hearing Sato's menacing whispers play once more in her head.

 _How does it feel seeing people die all because of you?_

* * *

Within minutes, everyone parted ways like exits onto a freeway, not daring to look back nor at the directions everyone else went. Satomi, however, was left in her seated, curled position. If her nails weren't bitten to the nubs, they would have likely scarred her scalp.

 _If you want a quiet life, I could give it to you…_

As though she was unaware, she rose from her seated position and began to walk. Hallway after hallway, her eyes still looking down at the cheap carpet laid throughout the compound, not fully aware of her destination aside from it being a part of the carpet. Finally her legs reached a door; a simple, planar door. Inside her mind was the same scene playing before her helpless eyes while outside a hand reached for the metal surface—but the contact was never made.

 _An eternal one… In darkness._

Instead, Satomi's back collided with the door alongside a small thump as she slid to the floor. Her eyes remained open, staring straight ahead at the least fascinating wall ahead of her and blinking when necessary. But of course, the action itself was entirely unnecessary, because even if her eyes dried out or somehow became overexposed to light when inside the dark, musty hallway, her immortal body would refuse to allow her permanent blindness, no matter how much she wished to not see.

Hearing wasn't any better, she realized, finding the sounds of sobs amidst the electronic whirring within the hall. No, it wasn't in the hall, but in the room. Within the room on the other side of the door her body was so intent on leaning on, there was a sobbing boy. As though she were there, Satomi could feel the shaking of his shoulders as each breath unwillingly escaped through his cries; she could feel the weight of the room, pressing itself against him so much that his body was on the floor, only stationed upright by the bed in front of him. As though she was in the room, Satomi felt everything she could imagine Kei Nagai to feel like a blow to the head, finally deciding to shut her eyes and bring her knees close to her chest once more.

But for a second, the cries stopped, and for just as long, Satomi's body felt weightless before colliding with the floor behind her.

She found herself quietly yelping as her eyes opened wide once falling backward, staring ahead at the culprit who opened the door and preparing some sort of detached retort—yet her mind could not find one. Staring at his currently upside-down red eyes, Satomi Eto could not find a thing to say to Nagai standing above her, instead blinking as he blinked, and breathing as he breathed.

"What were you doing at my door?" Satomi seemed unable to answer the question as she blinked again, allowing her eyes to focus on the intricacies on Nagai's face. Although his eye color already matched the description, his eyes were red and the puffiness around them seemed to begin to fall. There was still hints of dust and dirt around his pale, facial complexion from both the elevator shaft and the dirtied length at which Sato threw him, but what attracted her sight most of all was the small singe to the skin at the nape of his neck—the only proof of the promised quiet life. Satomi shivered.

"Get up," Nagai added briskly, looking outside his door before leaning it closer to a close. "you look like an idiot." although the words were no different from the ones he would share on a daily basis, the way his voice executed them seemed rather false as each word shook to follow the last. Nevertheless, she quickly pulled her feet into the room and stood herself up in response, now demanding her eyesight to barely meet his own as he quietly shut the door and turned to face her.

Once again, a hash cold fell over the silence in the room—but because of its occupants, the cold was rather harsher. Satomi focused her vision on the cheap carpeting with her head down as though in utter shame. Whatever she expected from guiding herself here, it certainly was not this confrontation, yet every other possible scenario was not what she intended either. She almost felt drunk off the confusion, wanting nothing more than to return to her position against the cold metal door and the cheap carpeting.

"What are you doing here, Eto?" again, Nagai's voice seemed to waver between sounding as he always did and merely acting as though. Satomi's view was still a perfect shot of the floor, but she knew the face in front of her remained emotionless despite the opposite trailing along his voice. "Why are you—,"

"It was my fault." for the first time that night she found herself speaking, still looking at the floor and folding her arms behind her back as to keep herself still in some odd way. The vibe of the room remained unchanged as she continued. "I didn't do anything—I couldn't," for a second, she grimaced at her own words.

"I wouldn't. I sat there and I watched as everything we worked for fell from our grasp like dust—,"

"Stop it."

"I let Sato push you around like some sort of doll and—,"

"Eto, stop."

"No Nagai!" finally looking up and raising her arms to her head, she brought herself to look him in the eye, surprised as he slightly winced at her words. "I won't let you blame yourself for something not under your control…" His eyes twitched as for a second, she thought she could hear him mutter her name, but her thoughts were too loud for her to process it. "I won't let you carry the burden for my mistake… You did everything you could and I—," but her rambling was brought to an end as something interfered with the way she attempted to deliver her message. With widening eyes, Satomi watched as Nagai's hands clamp their way around her arms, pulling her towards him and in a second pushing his lips onto her own. She gasped, managing to grab the fabric of his shirt and push him away, entirely thrown off by the stagnant cold look he gave her that contrasted her own outraged one.

"I told you to stop." he spoke as though it were the most natural answer; Satomi merely stared at him with practically twitching eyes, tightening her grip on his shirt.

"You could have just killed me…" the words came out matter-of-fact-ly, aware of his firearms still strapped at his sides as she watched his eyes for any sign of life, but he merely blinked.

"Honestly…" he began, gruff as usual though slowly softening his features as he loosened his grip on her arms. "I don't want to see you die too…"

It was silent between the two again before Satomi let her own tight grip on his shirt fall, quickly bringing her arms around his neck in an embrace. At first hesitant, Nagai let his arms hang loose at his side before tightly winding them around her waist, burying his head in the crook of her neck as he slowly began to cry once more. For a moment, neither wanted to let go of the bodice keeping them afloat.


End file.
